


Model's Own

by Domeaspreadsheet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Collars, Dom/sub, Gags, Hand Jobs, I probably forgot something but this is only 2k we'll all live, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, harry as a table, the way it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 02:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14034540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domeaspreadsheet/pseuds/Domeaspreadsheet
Summary: Harry hadn’t wanted him to see the Another Man shoot until it dropped, wanted it to be a surprise. He’d already come home with his hair chopped off, how many surprises could there be?Louis pulls up Harry’s instagram, the notifications for three posts coming through right after the other. Harry was off at a spin class, and here Louis sits, staring at Harry’s face, the three covers forming a neat line, all so different, yet all so very Harry. He zooms in on one, knows he must be seeing it wrong, but no.Harry is wearing a collar. On the cover of a fucking magazine.





	Model's Own

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE THANKS to Molly who got this beta'd in a snap. 
> 
> Happy birthday, Amanda. I won't be able to look you in the eye at your birthday dinner, but I hope you enjoy this!

Harry hadn’t wanted him to see the Another Man shoot until it dropped, wanted it to be a surprise. He’d already come home with his hair chopped off, how many surprises could there be? 

 

Louis pulls up Harry’s instagram, the notifications for three posts coming through right after the other. Harry was off at a spin class, and here Louis sits, staring at Harry’s face, the three covers forming a neat line, all so different, yet all so very Harry. He zooms in on one, knows he must be seeing it wrong, but no.  _ Harry is wearing a collar. On the cover of a fucking magazine. A collar Louis sure as  _ fuck  _ hadn’t given him.  _

 

He hears the front door, a plan already forming. 

 

Harry makes his way into the kitchen, the Randy’s Donuts hoodie pulled over his head, socks hiked up over his running tights, a water bottle clutched in his hand. 

 

“Hey, Lou,” he says, attempting to be casual. “Did you see them?”

 

“You mean, ‘Did I see my boyfriend wearing a fucking collar that’s not mine on the cover of a magazine?’ ‘cause if so, yeah, I’m all up to speed.”

 

Harry has the decency to blush, Louis knowing he wanted to get caught, willing to give him what he wants. 

 

“Harry,” Louis begins, eyes dark, stalking toward Harry. “You have three minutes to get yourself off and explain how this happened.” Louis leans up to murmur in Harry’s ear. “And please know that your next orgasm is not soon should you fail. You know your words. Begin.” 

 

Harry stands stunned for a few seconds before dropping the water bottle on the tile, and works a hand down the front of his tights, starting to move over his cock. 

 

“Um,” he stammers. “Uhm, Hambert? Found it. Thought it would look good-“ he breaks off to moan. “And I, um, agreed?” 

 

“Two and a half minutes left, Harry.” 

 

“I love wearing my collar at home, makes me feel, ungh, confident?” He throws his head back, hand working quickly over himself, racing the clock. “Wanted the confidence.” 

 

“And how confident do you feel now, trying to get yourself off standing in the middle of the kitchen?” Harry keens, eyes squeezed shut, but Louis keeps talking before he can answer. “How long before I see this thing on eBay, ‘collar worn by Harry Styles’ and I have to buy it myself? You have a minute left, by the way.”

 

“You won’t,” Harry pants. “It’s upstairs. In a drawer. Wanted to keep it.” 

 

“Time’s up, put your hands behind your head.” 

 

Harry whimpers and looks like he wants to protest, but does as he’s told, chest heaving. 

 

“Did you shower at the gym?”

 

“No.”

 

“Go and shower. Don’t touch yourself. Don’t get dressed afterward. Meet me in the living room, and bring that fucking collar with you.” 

 

Louis turns and walks out of the kitchen before Harry can respond. He needs a moment to think this the rest of the way through. He’s not upset, just can’t pass up an opportunity to play, especially when it’s a scenario he didn’t have to orchestrate.  

 

He drags the ottoman down the hall to stash it in their office, leaving an open space in front of the couch, looping back through the kitchen for a couple of bottles of water and a linen hand towel, which he sets behind the couch for later. 

 

He decides to sit while he waits for Harry; he trusts him to not dawdle. 

 

Harry walks in maybe a minute later, naked, hair damp, collar in hand. 

 

Louis stands, and holds out a hand for the collar, taking it from Harry. “Turn around.”

 

Harry reaches to brush the hair off his neck but Louis stops him with a hand to his wrist. “Unnecessary. Open your mouth. Let’s see if you still like this one as a gag.”

 

He hears Harry’s breath hitch, and smiles to himself.  _ Perfect _ . He walks to Harry’s front, and buckles it into place, the buckle in between Harry’s teeth. 

 

“Since you can’t speak, you’re going to snap three times if you need to word out, understand?”

 

Harry nods. 

 

Louis slaps his cheek. “Demonstrate.”

 

Harry snaps three times, and Louis caresses his cheek. “Good boy. There’s a match on I’d like to watch, but the ottoman seems to have gone missing and I’d like a place to put my feet.”

 

Louis crosses to sit on the couch and sits, Harry still frozen in place. He sighs. “For fuck’s sake, Harry, a prop isn’t going to just materialize. You know what to do.” 

 

Harry blushed furiously, but started to walk toward Louis. He holds up a hand. “I don’t think I said you could walk. Hands and knees.”

 

He knows he’s pushing hard, but they’ve talked about it. About how Harry likes it, likes the feeling of earning praise when they play rather than it being handed out freely. 

 

Harry crawls in front of the couch, and Louis gives him a second to get settled in his table position before propping his feet on Harry’s strong back. 

 

Louis turns on the telly, finds a match he supposedly has a great interest in, and lowers the volume a little bit so he can hear Harry’s labored breathing. 

 

Louis is quiet for close to ten minutes before the need to make it worse takes over. “Are you tired from spin class? You may nod or shake your head.” 

 

Harry hesitates, then nods. “Hmmm. That’s unfortunate,” Louis says. “Get a hand around yourself and slowly jack off. Don’t come.”

 

Harry whines, but does as told, shifting his weight slightly to get into the awkward position, Louis moving his feet a little to keep them propped up. 

 

Louis watches as Harry slowly strokes over himself, head tilted down in concentration, a line of drool dripping onto the carpet thanks to the collar. Harry is so  _ good _ for him when he’s like this, it makes it hard to maintain the colder persona he uses when they play. But now is not the time to be soft.

 

“How does it feel, Harry? To be naked and drooling, unable to speak, being used as a table? Is it uncomfortable? I bet it is. You’re doing well, though. Always do well for me.”

 

Harry whines again, and Louis notices his hips shifting slightly with each stroke on his cock. “I told you not to come, Harry. Careful. If you get close you can let go, since you can’t tell me.”

 

About thirty seconds later, Harry drops his hand, resuming his table position. 

 

“That was quick,” Louis comments, swinging his feet off Harry’s back and reaching down to wrap a firm hand around Harry’s cock. “Does it feel too good? Being used?” Louis works his hand up and down, twisting at the tip, gathering the precome that’s gathered there. When he feels Harry start to thrust erratically into his hand he lets go, leaving Harry to chase the friction that’s no longer there. 

 

Not wanting to leave Harry in the floor  _ too  _ long, and realizing just how turned on he is, Louis knows where he’s taking this next.

 

Louis lets out a disappointed huff. “You clearly can’t handle touching right now, so I guess you’ll just have to watch me. Kneel in front of me, hands behind your back.”

 

Harry does as asked, resettling himself directly in front of Louis, knees slightly spread, hands crossed, cock standing stiffly. 

 

Louis reaches out to caress his cheek, purposefully dragging a finger through the saliva gathered at the corner of Harry’s mouth. “So messy, baby,” he tsks softly, loving the way Harry immediately flushes red and how his cock twitches. “Are you okay to keep going? Nod or shake your head.”

 

Harry nods. 

 

“Good.” Louis shimmies his joggers off, and gets a hand around his cock, groaning loudly at how good it feels. “See how hard you made me? You look so hot. But good boys don’t wear other people’s collars, so you’ll have to settle for watching.”

 

Harry clenches his eyes shut, but reopens them before Louis can reprimand him. 

 

Inspired, Louis leans forward again, and drags a palm up Harry’s now-wet neck then resumes his position, the slide along his shaft made easier with Harry’s spit. 

 

Louis jacks himself off, knowing he won’t be able to hold out for too long. He lightly pinches a nipple, and then he’s coming into his fist, working himself through it. He pulls his hand away, covered in come, and leans forward to wipe it on Harry’s chest, trailing down to take Harry in hand, slowly moving his hand up and down. 

 

“Do you want to come, Harry?” 

 

Harry nods. 

 

“Hmmm. Maybe I’ll make you wait a little longer. Maybe I’ll take you right to the edge and keep you there,” Louis muses, quickening his strokes. 

 

Harry starts to whine even more loudly than before. 

 

“Make all the noise you want, you know good boys wait to come until they’re told. Good boys don’t hide new collars from their partner. Good boys don’t pose on the cover of a fucking magazine wearing a goddamn collar.”

 

Tears are leaking from Harry’s eyes, and he seems to not know if he wants to chase the friction of Louis’ hand, or try to get away from it so he can be good. He’s always good for Louis, though, was never  _ bad _ to begin with. 

 

Louis twists his hand up, and pinches one of Harry’s nipples with his other, and says “Come for me, Harry. Be a good boy.”

 

Harry comes instantly, head thrown back, a deep groan escaping around the collar. Louis works him through the aftershocks, and immediately starts piling on the praise.

 

“Harry, you did so well, love you so much, you’re my best good boy,” Louis coos, unbuckling the collar. He lightly cups Harry’s face in his hands, massaging his jaw, knows it’s probably stiff. “Open and close your mouth a few times for me, baby.”

 

Harry does as asked. 

 

“Are you okay for me to get the water from behind the couch? I’ll be right back,” Louis promises. 

 

“Y-yeah,” Harry whispers, voice hoarse from disuse. “Come back, though,” he says, smiling. 

 

Louis is back within a few seconds, and hands Harry a bottle of water while he starts gently wiping him down with the soft towel. “I’ll always come back, baby.” He runs a hand gently through Harry’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. “Wanna go take a bath? We can use that sparkle glitter bath thing you’ve been wanting to try.”

 

Harry snorts softly. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

 

Louis stands and holds out a hand to Harry, ready to help pull him up off the floor. 

 

“God, Lou, my knees,” Harry moans. “Throw me a pillow next time.” 

 

“I’ll text Hambert, let him know we have a need for another item to bring into the bedroom.” 

 

Harry shouts, then quickly slaps a hand over his mouth, a giggle still slipping out. 

 

Louis smacks him on the ass. “Get a move on, we’ve got a bath to get into.”

 

Once they’re settled in the tub, pink glitter swirling around them, Louis is ready to see if his suspicion is correct.

 

“Harry, did you use that collar to bait me into a scene? Is that why you didn’t tell me you brought it home? Because, I hope you know, I wouldn’t have been upset.” 

“Busted,” Harry says, softly. “I mean, I didn’t think it through that far, Hambert just sent it home with me as a joke, but then I kind of...wondered what would happen if I waited until you saw the photos.”

 

“I’m impressed. We all know you’re total shit at keeping secrets,” Louis says, lightly pinching his side, eliciting a giggle from Harry. “It is a nice collar, though. We can use it sometimes, if you want.”

 

“We’ll see. I might want it to be a one time only thing, you know?”

 

“Okay, baby. Just let me know. I can’t wait to see the rest of the photos. M’so proud of you.”

 

“Just wait ‘til you see the ones with the leash.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my way of making peace with that dumbass rumor that Harry owned the collar for the Another Man shoot, so thank you for indulging me. 
> 
> Come say hello on [tumblr](http://softgolfdaddy.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Fic [post](http://softgolfdaddy.tumblr.com/post/172065245326/models-own-by-domeaspreadsheet-harry-hadnt) to reblog!


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